


You're Like a Work of Art, Baby (And I Can't Wait)

by Firalla11



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Dimension 20: Pirates of Leviathan (Campaign)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Trans Character, Cunnilingus, Light Bondage, Other, Post-Canon, Rope Bondage, Vaginal Sex, Yuletide 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firalla11/pseuds/Firalla11
Summary: Jack knew his way around a rope.He’d never thought that knowledge would aid him here, naked in the bed of Garthy O’Brien.
Relationships: Jack Brakkow/Garthy O'Brien, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	You're Like a Work of Art, Baby (And I Can't Wait)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Largishcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Largishcat/gifts).



> Huge thanks to my beta, J, for looking this over for me! Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own. 
> 
> And an additional huge thanks to the mods for putting this whole thing together!
> 
> Spoilers abound for the entire Pirates of Leviathan campaign, so! Read at your own risk!
> 
> Title from Florida Georgia Line's [Hands On You](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/floridageorgialine/handsonyou.html).

Jack had pirate’s hands. Sailor’s hands. Rough hands, made for and from hard work, a hard life. Hands used to claw and thrash and fight.

A year ago — hells, a month ago — he would have said that fighting was all his hands were good for.

A month ago, he hadn’t met his crew. Hadn’t met Garthy.

A month ago, he spent his days slinking through the dark streets of the Bilge, past families that cringed from the sight of him, even as he cringed from the reactions of those he hadn’t managed to pass quickly enough.

A lot can change in a month.

A lot can change in a day. A handful of days. A handful of moments. Decisions he’d make time and again given the choice.

He had a crew again. A ship again, not his in name, but his to captain. A sturdy vessel, and certainly a motley crew, but one brought together through trials and terrors and joys and who were all the stronger for it. A crew that was once again riding high on success; they’d be returning to Leviathan in a scant handful of hours, Cheese’s brother and a gaggle of other gnomes rescued, safe for now in the ship down below—

“We’re almost back.”

Jack didn’t startle at Miss Bob’s sudden appearance, but it was a close thing, his hands flexing on the ship’s wheel. “Aye, that we are.”

She smiled, a bright grin, rivalled only by the sunlight flashing on the waves. “Are you gonna see Garthy again?”

“I think we’ll all be seeing them again,” Jack said. They had a plan, after all. They needed somewhere safe for the rescued gnomes to recover, to get their bearings before they were returned to the cutthroat world that was life on Leviathan, and there was nowhere safer on Leviathan than the Gold Gardens. He wasn’t looking forward to leading the exhausted gnomes through the winding Leviathan streets, but the end of the journey? For all he was a sailor — a pirate — at heart, he was looking forward to that. To being in the city for a spell. To what being in the city might mean.

“Probably,” she said, resting her palm on his shoulder. “But I think you’ll be seeing a little more than the rest of us.” She winked.

“Aye,” Jack said, and he was blushing despite himself. “I think there’s a chance of that.”

A year ago, Jack wouldn’t have believed his confidence. Confidence in himself. Confidence that he’d be welcome.

A year ago he was alone but for Stimey and his ghosts.

A month ago he left Leviathan with his crew, the seed of a not-promise warming his chest.

A month that he’s spent thinking and growing. Learning to feel comfortable as himself again. To relearn what being himself truly meant.

Indeed, much can change in a month.

She giggled. “I’m glad! You should be happy, Jack. I know you’re happy when we’re sailing, but you should be happy at home, too!” Home for him, Jack had found, was more likely to be on the Harvest Moon than anywhere on Leviathan, but he knew that wasn’t true for all of them. Wasn’t true for Miss Bob, as much as adventure called to her. She’d left a little too much behind. “It’ll be good to be home for a while,” she continued, a little more subdued.

Jack pressed a careful hand to her back, between her wings. “You’ll see Trixie again soon, lass.”

She nodded, and her smile was firmly affixed to her face again. “I know! I’m gonna tell her all about our adventures! I’m gonna sing her all my new songs!”

“And wonderful songs they are, lass. She’ll love them.”

“Thanks, Jack.” She kissed his cheek and twirled away from him, dancing light-footed across the deck.

Jack shook his head and turned his eyes back toward the horizon, to the dark speck that was rapidly taking shape.

Leviathan.

Aye, they were almost there.

***

The Gold Gardens was as raucous and rowdy as he remembered, crowded with cheering and cursing pirates alike. Jack was alone at the bar — alone as he could be in a crowd such as this — and glad for the brief reprieve. It’d been a flurry of activity since they’d docked, taken care of the ship, led the gnomes through the streets and gotten them settled in. Cheese and Spaulding had gone off with them, and the rest of the crew had scattered for the night: Bob off to her rooms with Trixie in tow, Sunny home to see her family, with a reminder there was room for her here if she needed it. Myrtle had found her way back to the oversized martini glass, and Jack was plenty glad that that would be Marcid’s headache come the morning, for all Marcid clearly knew not to say a word about it now.

Jack hid his grin in his glass. His attention was split between the pair of them — Marcid _coincidentally_ lurking in the shadows near Myrtle had become quite a common, if amusing, sight on the ship — and Garthy as they travelled the room, coming ever closer to him. They were shirtless, as they always seemed to be, and radiant in flickering candlelight. They were clearly in their element, stopping briefly to speak with a guest, moving on to the next with seemingly no trouble, until they reached the bar. They stopped next to him, within arm’s reach if either of them chose to reach out.

“Jack, my dear man, welcome back to Leviathan.”

“Garthy.” Jack inclined his head, an instinctive smile curling at his lips. “Good to be seeing you again.”

“And you as well.” Garthy’s gaze dipped to give him an appreciative once over. The weight of their attention was like a physical touch. This time Jack didn’t shy away. By their raised eyebrow, Garthy noted the change. “I must say, life at sea looks good on you, darling.”

“It was good to be back on the water,” Jack agreed. “I’m feeling more like a man I’m happy to be. But the stopover will do us good — I know Miss Bob was missing Miss Trixie. And I’m glad for the chance to avail myself of all the Gold Gardens has to offer.”

Garthy laughed, rested a hand lightly on his forearm. “Are you now, lovey?”

Jack covered their hand with his own. “Aye. A mattress. Clean sheets. A private room.”

“I think I can make that happen,” Garthy said, and their smile spoke to all sorts of promises. “Come along, lovey. Let me show you the way.”

They took his hand in theirs and stepped away toward the door. Jack set his empty glass on the bar top and slid off his stool to join them.

***

It was nothing more than a short walk before they were shut away in Garthy’s personal chambers, making use of a softer bed than Jack’s ever known.

He’d grown up in the Bilge. Even the concept of the luxuries he’d encountered at the Gold Gardens had been beyond him before his new crew had barged into his life.

He’d grown up in the Bilge; he knew his way around a rope. Had probably forgotten more knots than anyone born on land would think to know.

He’d never thought that knowledge would aid him here, naked in the bed of Garthy O’Brien.

They looked good bound, ropes lashed to their ankles and the sturdy posts of their bed, spread on the mattress for Jack to take his time with. And he had been. There was a ring of darker marks on Garthy’s collarbones, courtesy of Jack’s teeth, skin of their cheeks flushed an even darker beguiling green.

Jack shifted beside them, trailed the end of another black-dyed rope over Garthy’s sternum for the shiver he knew it would draw.

The ropes were fine things, softer things than Jack was used to having in his hands, meant for skin, not sail. Another luxury introduced to him by Garthy. One he’d taken to quickly, if Garthy’s reactions were anything to go by.

“You’re a sight,” Jack murmured.

Garthy’s smirk flashed a hint of tusk. “Am I?”

“Aye,” Jack said. “And you know it.”

“I do, lovey.” They winked, afforded Jack another smile. “But I do enjoy hearing you say so.”

Jack cupped Garthy’s cheek, smoothed his thumb over their skin. “I’ll be keeping that in mind then.” He held up the coil of rope wound loosely through his fingers. “What do you say we do something with this, hm?”

“I say you’re reading my mind.”

“Good,” Jack said. “That’s good.” He knelt back a little, enough to give Garthy room to sit up, to give himself room to work. Jack trailed his fingers down Garthy’s neck, across their shoulder, down their arm, his nails raising goosebumps on their skin. “I’m going to make a harness out of this now.”

“No objections here, darling,” Garthy said, lifting their arms so Jack could more easily pass the rope behind them.

“Eager,” Jack murmured.

“For you, Jackie? Of course.”

Jack kissed them for that, couldn’t have done anything else, couldn’t help his shudder at the hint of Garthy’s tusks against his lips, Garthy’s hands wandering to his shoulders, the nape of his neck, his lower back, the swell of his ass, naked as the rest of him. Jack pulled away laughing when Garthy gave a teasing squeeze. “And after that I’m going to bind your arms, I think.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” There was a pout on Garthy’s lips, but their eyes were dancing. Teasing.

Jack shook his head, kissed their cheek, and reached for the rope again. “Hardly. It’s just you’re terribly distracting. I’d like to keep some of my thoughts in my head if you’re going to be bound beneath me.”

Not that Garthy being bound was the trial it would be for most; it would take nothing but a thought and a gesture for them to free themself if they chose.

That they were willing to keep themself bound for their mutual pleasure — for _him_ — was a heady thing.

“Alright, I hear you, darling. Hands to myself.” They made a show of lifting their hands away from Jack, but not before giving him one final squeeze. Jack couldn’t say he minded.

The rope work was quick. Simple knots and loops that ended with Garthy on their back, chest and shoulders and arms wrapped in rope, their arms bent at the elbows, hands together and secured under their chin. Jack knelt back after giving the ropes a final tug.

“Done?” Garthy asked.

“Done,” Jack agreed. “Comfortable?”

Garthy hummed, arched languidly against the ropes that held them in place. Jack watched, gaze caught in the play of dark rope and sculpted muscle and gold tattoos, green skin flushed dark from cheeks to chest. An alluring creature, Garthy O’Brien. A vision in black and green and gold.

Jack rested a hand against their bound arms, pressed down. “None of that now.”

He grinned when Garthy went limp at his touch, their eyes catching his again. Their eyes, darker, usually, than most anyone’s he’d ever met, were blacker still, nothing more than the faintest ring of gold left shining up at him.

“Shameless,” Jack said, palm rising and falling to the rhythm of Garthy’s breath.

Garthy arched an amused eyebrow at him. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No,” Jack said, and he let his gaze travel the length of Garthy’s bound form. “You don’t at that.”

Garthy smiled. “Flattery, lovey? I approve.”

“I thought you might,” Jack said, trailing a thumb over Garthy’s lower lip. “What should we do now, hm?”

“Now? Now, my sweet man, what is it going to take to get that lovely cock of yours inside me?”

Jack inhaled long and slow. He’d been ignoring the low burn of his arousal, but it was… harder, when Garthy said things like that. Looked at him like that. “Lovely, is it?”

Garthy laughed, a throaty sound that brought heat to Jack’s cheeks. “Lovely indeed. Lovelier still if you’d put it to use.”

Jack shook his head but pressed his lips to Garthy’s, then eased his way to kneel between Garthy’s spread thighs. The ropes at their ankles were keeping their thighs apart, and there was dampness shining between them, obvious in the candlelight. He swallowed, rested a broad palm high on Garthy’s thigh, close enough to brush the dampness with the tip of his thumb. They twitched, breath hitching. Jack tore his gaze away to meet theirs. “And if I want to put my mouth to use first?”

Garthy smiled, and it was a predator’s smile for all they were bound. “I’d hardly say no.”

“Good,” Jack said, and he settled on his stomach between their thighs. A deep breath brought the heady scent of their arousal to his nose. He licked his lips, then flicked his tongue to taste them, and was rewarded with a moan.

Garthy wasn’t a quiet lover; it wasn’t hard to wring a reaction from them, and Jack had already learned delight in their every noise.

“That’s it,” Garthy murmured, shifting against the sheets. “Deeper now, lovey.”

The ropes at their ankles kept them from moving, from rocking against him or pressing down into his mouth. Kept them from doing more than twitching at his touch. Jack smoothed his hands up their thighs to palm their hips, tilted them to give him better access as he licked deeper into their folds. This time he was rewarded with a growled curse. Jack groaned, hitched his hips, pressed his cock against the mattress for some fraction of relief as he licked into them again and again, changed angle and pressure at Garthy’s encouragement as their muscles grew tenser and tenser under his hands. Garthy cried out then, a warning in as much as he needed one, before there was a sudden wash of salt-stickiness on his tongue. He continued thrusting lightly with his tongue until they squirmed abruptly away, as far as they could manage. Jack pushed up to kneel once again, sat back on his heels between Garthy’s thighs. There was an ache in his jaw he wouldn’t trade for anything. He wiped his chin on the back of his hand, rested his other hand light on Garthy’s thigh, squeezed gently. “Alright there?”

“Alright, lovey,” Garthy said, faintly breathless. “More than alright.” The look in their eyes when Jack met their gaze had Jack’s cock twitching between his thighs. “Time for that lovely cock of yours, hm?”

“Not too soon?”

“No, darling Jackie, I’d say it’s just soon enough.”

They flashed him a challenging smile, but Jack was hardly going to argue; they knew their wants as well as anyone he’d ever known. Jack stretched over Garthy, braced an arm near their head, his other hand on his cock to guide himself into blissful, wet heat. He bit his lip as he eased himself in, buried himself to the hilt with a careful roll of his hips.

Garthy clenched around him, that same smile on their lips. “Come now, lovey. I won’t break.”

Jack huffed. No, for all the strength in Jack’s hands and the banked rage in his blood, Garthy could handle all of him and more.

There was a thrill in that, to be sure.

He snapped his hips harder, smirked at the groan that sounded like it was torn from Garthy’s throat. “Better?”

“Better,” Garthy agreed, and the heat in their eyes had Jack closing his a for breath… but only for a breath. He settled into a rhythm then, let himself get lost in the breathy sounds Garthy made with each roll of his hips, wanton and unfettered, lips parted around the sounds. He ducked in for a messy kiss, more a pressing of lips than anything of real skill. He left it gasping when Garthy nipped his lip, teeth catching, tugging as he pulled away.

Their gaze caught him next, gold in their eyes practically aglow. “Going to need your hand, darling, caught up as mine are.”

Jack nodded, hummed, slid a hand down between them as he rocked against them, circled his thumb where they needed the pressure, and delighted in the way they cried out, eyes slamming shut, before the rhythmic clench and a rush of heat had Jack bowed over them as the heat in him built, built, and crested, finally, in a wave that stole his breath.

His weight was resting mostly on Garthy when he came back to himself. A place he’d stay if not for the fact that they were still bound. He shifted, lifted himself away, pulled out as gently as he could, rubbed lightly at Garthy’s side when they shivered. A few careful tugs had the ropes loosening, sliding off their arms, their chest, their ankles, knots coming undone with little effort, as he’d made sure they would, leaving Garthy loosely sprawled on their sheets, all sweat-damp skin and shimmering tattoos, dark lashes fanned against flushed cheeks. “A sight,” Jack murmured, smoothing his hands over freshly bared skin. “A sight indeed.”

Garthy breathed a sated laugh, eyes flickering open. “Come down here, lovey.” They beckoned him closer.

“Gladly,” Jack said, sinking into the mattress beside them. “Seem to remember making you a promise to make you the little spoon.”

“I seem to remember something similar.”

They rolled onto their side and Jack followed, his chest to Garthy’s back, his arm over Garthy’s waist, and together they settled in to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you happen to spot a typo, please don’t hesitate to let me know!
> 
> You can find me [here](https://twitter.com/Firalla1) on twitter, where I yell about D20 and other D&D things!!


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